


You love me too?

by elemental__ly



Series: Try a different angle: 12 months of fanfics [2]
Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Gen, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemental__ly/pseuds/elemental__ly
Summary: Sometimes, the fiction is not just fiction.





	You love me too?

**Author's Note:**

> February: Love.

_"Strange disease, caused mainly by unrequited love. It is characterized by the growth of flowers in the lungs of the infected person, until suffocated._

_There is no definite flower about the disease. Usually they are the favorite flowers of the affected one, or their favorite color._

_There are three phases of it: in the first one... blah blah blah... "_

"But what stupidity!"

Abruptly exclaimed Helga, reviewing the website of that urban dictionary, in search of resolving her doubts about some terms that used occasionally in the stories found in the vast network. Site that she didn't take several seconds to minimize to appreciate the wallpaper: a collage with several photos of Arnold, taken while he didn't see.

Sure, Bob and Miriam had bought her a laptop for her college studies —reluctantly on the man's part— but sometimes a girl had to give herself her luxuries.

"Oh Arnold, my sweet and beloved little bird, that cruel and ruthless world awaits us out there, where people invent bloody illnesses for want of love" murmured the blonde girl stroking with her fingertips the screen, where Arnold's hair remained intact. "Fortunately, that will never happen to us, right? After all, it's just fiction, and you love me as I love you... right?"

While saying that, a silly smile took hold of her face. However, a small hesitant apex settled in her soul as a young adult.

Her feelings for the football-head were still a deep secret of her, a guilty pleasure before which she sighed day and night behind his back.

"Obviously!" She assured herself, removing a couple of rebellious strands from her face, and made a slight movement with her finger to prevent the laptop from entering a state of rest and thus be able to continue appreciating the multiple faces of his beloved. She put a hand on her chest, feeling the beating of her racing heart.

And then she heaved a heavy sigh, trying to get out of her uneven thoughts to reopen that page.

Her fingers, slightly trembling, went to the definition, observing with sudden restlessness a very specific part of her.

_Unrequited love..._

"And if the love I had for that little boy wasn't reciprocated?" The girl thought internally. It seemed that her self-esteem had suddenly descended, and it was not that she had problems with her; however, like every woman, she was in those moments where it had its ups and downs and it was very self-critical.

But Helga shook her head quickly, causing a little dizzy in the process before finally closing the site and lower the screen of her laptop watching as it was suddenly extinguished.

_What was she thinking in that way so... negative? She still could not rush to conclusions, she has not even confessed to the football-head!_

"Helga, sweetie, dinner is ready!" Miriam's voice barely sounded mute when her knuckles touched her door with some gentleness, trying to respect her privacy.

"I'm going right now, Miriam" was her answer, something muffled and even annoying for unknown reasons. But the woman didn't even move a muscle, sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring at the pastel pink device contrasting with her dark pink blankets.

She look at her hands, slightly trembling, and she closed them to pale knuckles, a chill running down her back. Finally she sighed and got up from the bed feeling the movement of the mattress releasing her weight and went towards the door of her room, preparing herself psychologically to listen to Bob's talks about the thousand and one achievements that Olga got every day now that she was definitely residing in the city.

Now, however, her mind was literally against her, keeping the name of that fictitious illness in her mind, as absurd and ridiculous as Miriam's cooking skills.

_Hanahaki._

_—_

"...and then he told me that it would be best if we were friends."

A new day had arrived and after a long and exhausting class both were in the dining room of the college taking their well-deserved rest. But none could say it was good.

Helga hadn't been able to sleep, not only because she was doing homework until late at night, but also because the hanahaki issue had disturbed her, being the constant nightmares about her being attacked by the disease that kept her awake.

On the other hand, her friend was telling her the events that were involved in her relationship, she being the person she had the most confidence in.

Or should she say her  _old_ relationship?

"I'm so sorry, Phoeb," she said, in a consolation attempt. The words of support weren't her forte, but her friend needed her, and she must be there for her.

"Don't worry Helga" the opposite smiled sadly, blowing her nose with the fifth napkin at lunch, keeping her eyes full of tears.

Sighing heavily, she slowly approached the girl with glasses and put a hand on her shoulder in support, perceiving a faint aroma of lobelias detaching from her.

When had her bought a perfume with the smell of lobelias...?

"I do not know what to do, Helga," she sobbed, removing her glasses with one hand and removing the saline liquid from her eyes with the other. That brought out the above of her thoughts.

"And, am..." She bit her lip, thinking the words that might sound appropriate for the woman's discomfort. "How do you feel about that? I mean, before the fact that he is... you know, gay...?"

She would have given the man another comment, but she acknowledged that her sense of humor wasn't right for Phoebe at the moment.

"He being gay is that I didn't care, it's still the same person. What hurts me is that he didn't tell me, and founding him in that situation... I don't know."

With broken voice and trembling hands, she took her apple and finally gave it the first bite. Helga kept hugging her, and caressed her hair with a certain awkwardness, receiving the consequences of not having grown up in an essentially loving family.

And honestly, she was really confused by what the woman told her. After all, Gerald's love for her friend was really noticeable since they were in their fifth year, even more noticeable than the love she solemnly and secretly had for Arnold. She had always been a boy who cared to prove his masculinity and had never shown signs of being homosexual.

So, why did life give this 180° turn to her friend, so dedicated to her studies, intelligent and also quite pretty?

"I think it would be more appropriate to move on, Phebs. It wouldn't be healthy for you to be crying for someone who doesn't belong to you." She tried to advise, her voice rasping at the knot that was beginning to form in her throat. Even if it didn't seem so, she cared about her friend, and it saddened her to see her hurt.

She patiently waited for her to swallow the apple to receive her answer.

"I know, but it will not be easy. I really loved him" to try to catch her breath and dissuade the metallic taste that invaded her taste buds, she took a big swig at the bottle of water in front of her. She was trying to make Helga believe that it was in response to her constant sobs, and she gave her mission as accomplished when she kept trying to stroke her hair.

"And I'm aware of that, but if you cling to the past you'll simply hurt yourself." She gently patted her back, with a maternal instinct that was very poorly hidden.

Their conversation was cruelly interrupted when the bell rang. Phoebe's free time was over, and unfortunately her was still.

"I'd like to keep talking, Helga, but I have to go to my class," she said before rising tremulously, with the water bottle in one hand. She had barely eaten, but he really wasn't that hungry.

"Okay, Phebs. Take care of yourself." She rose from her place, embracing the other warmly, ignoring the aching expression of a tingling sensation in her throat that caused nausea.

"Yes" it was his short, simple and unanswered response, while she separated from the blonde to take the apple almost whole and throw it into the nearest trash can before the restless look of it.

She hurried out of the dining room to go to the building of her faculty, with the thought of arriving in time so that her strict teacher wouldn't leave her outside, heavily overshadowed by the need for her pills to keep quiet the petals of the lobelias that increasingly threatened with get expelled from her throat.

And she had to be quick so as not to disturb Helga or someone else.

On the other side, Helga threw the leftovers of her lunch in silence, an empty expression on her face.

"Poor Phoebe, I wish I could do something to help her. If only I could be more feminine, or know more about her tastes beyond the Japanese dialect, I could do something to cheer her up, and I don't think my humor will help her" she spoke to herself. "Also, what is it to hide your sexuality from your partner? Had he been honest with her, she wouldn't be like that, but noooo, mens always wanting to impose their manhood. I would hate them if it were not for-"

She was interrupted again when she crashed into the dining room entrance and fell on her butt.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

She looked up, ready to argue with the stupid person who had dared to clash with her.

But, oh, surprise, it was him.

"Arnold!"

In front of her, the blond maintained an expression of sincere concern, and extended his hand cavalierly to help her up.

And trying to prevent his face from getting red and nervous, she frowned and brusquely pulled the opponent's hand away.

"Arnold, you're a fool!" She exclaimed aggressively, rising on her own. "Why don't you look where you're going? You should take classes to learn how to walk well."

Crossing her arms, he gave his hand away.

"I said that I sorry, Helga, it was an accident."

"Accident or not, you're blind," she said, without softening her annoyed expression.

"Do you know Helga? Sometimes you should be gentler with people." His expression became tired and even boring.

She tried not to laugh at the blonde's comment.

"I could, but I don't want to football-head."

Finally, Arnold sighed tired of that meaningless argument.

"Anyway, didn't you happen to see Gerald? He seemed serious about wanting to talk to me."

At the mention of the young man's best friend, her expression became more bitter and she try not to grit her teeth.

"And what am I going to know Arnoldo?! No, I have not seen the pathetic of your friend. Now go away. I have things to do.

As the conversation ended, she pushed the above mentioned abruptly into the dining room so that she could turn on her heels and leave the building with some grace.

When Helga found herself far enough away, she sighed heavily in a vague attempt to eliminate the tension in her body, before running after a tree. After making sure she was completely alone, she rummaged in her pink sleeveless blouse to draw out a heart bathed in gold, with the most recent photograph of Arnold she could have taken.

"Oh, Arnold! My beautiful camellia, bright in the light of the full moon, why? Why did I act so frivolously and aggressively when I am with you? If I were not so cowardly, if I was not so insecure, I would tell you my feelings, but I don't know how I could attract your attention..."

She embrace the heart in her chest, locating it where it was the own feeling the heartbeats runaway of the same, feeling like a heat was spread by its cheeks and its eyes were moistened, humidity that she don't take in cleaning with the back of her free hand.

"I know, I could attract him with a letter! I could write to him saying that he sees me in the park or in some other corny place; he can't refuse, his heart is very noble and his curiosity is big. There I could confess my feelings, it's the perfect plan!

Idealizing the scenario, she smiled. A silly smile as she pressed the object to her chest...

Or that was until she felt a breath in her neck. It was slow and barely noisy, panting. Her frown frowned notoriously and she raised her fist, beating Brainy in the process, perhaps breaking the new glasses he had spoken of when he thought she was paying attention to him.

Later she quickly went to the building of the Literature's Faculty. She wanted to write that letter as soon as possible.

But being so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't notice Gerald running toward the dining room, ignorant of the reprimand he might receive. The brunette didn't care, he just wanted to get there.

The blush was barely visible on his dark face being attacked by the sun.

—

"What...?"

When Arnold found that letter in his backpack, he didn't expect to recognize the letter in it. But it was inevitable.

It was the same letter he remembered having visualized in that rose book that appeared among his own during the fifth year.

How to forget it? When they found it Gerald was bothering him and even humiliating him publicly for it. Besides, it was intriguing to know that he had a secret admirer, of whom he didn't know again.

True, it was impossible for him to belong to Ruth, she had finished her studies the year before, and the possibilities were reduced to the students who had been his former classmates. But that made it more interesting.

That's why he asked Gerald to see him later, recognizing what the paper meant.

However, of all the possible scenarios, the blonde would _never_ have imagined that.

"You heard me, Arnold! I like you! I love you!" Helga exclaimed, clenching her fists in fear. Her voice came trembling, and it seemed that she could break into tears at any moment. " like you since the playschool, since you told me I had a nice bun! Why do you think I still have it?! Iloveyoumorethananyoneelseintheworld!"

In other circumstances he might have thought it was a cruel joke, but the sincerity of her former classmate was too much. She had begun to tremble, she didn't mind reaffirming his wind-tossed hair.

And she made a great effort to prevent the tears from escaping.

Soon he found himself trembling, and swallowed hard.

"Helga, I... wow" he sighed looking down, as if his feet had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world and tried to ignore the aforementioned look, waiting for his response.

This would be more difficult than he thought.

"Listen, I..." his voice trembled, and the knot in his throat became more pronounced. "I really... I'm sorry but I... I don't feel the same way."

He tried not to look up, unable to see the face of the girl in front of him break slowly.

And so it was. Helga felt that her world instantly broke into a thousand pieces, and like a weight settled in her chest.

"What...?" She repeated, in a thread of voice. It couldn't be possible, she hadn't foreseen that scenario! But there had to be a reason. There was always a reason. "It's because I'm ugly, isn't it?"

That was enough for Arnold to react again.

"What?! It wasn't-!"

"It's my eyebrow, right?! Listen, I can pluck it! My nose? Unfortunately I cannot, I'm still a minor. Or is it my attitude? It's my attitude, right?! I can... I can... I can change! I-I can..."

Arnold had hesitated, but seeing the attitude his friend had taken, he approached her, taking her by the shoulders with a little force, shaking her tenuously to bring her back to the real world.

"Helga, listen to what you are saying. None of that is true. You're beautiful, intelligent, creative, loyal, and clearly you are a true friend, anyone would feel lucky to date with you; listen, really, really, I'm really sorry, but you just do not... you're not my type. Actually, I..." he hesitated to say it, given the sensitivity that now surrounded the blonde, but knew that he should be totally honest with her "I just entered into a relationship."

And so, finally, the effort that Helga had made in not crying had gone down the drain. The tears came out of control and ran down her face into cheeks, and she doubted that it was simply her hormonal state that was influencing.

"Really...?" She sobbed, seeing the blond nod quietly. "With whom...?"

And as if by magic, it _happened_.

"Arnold!"

They both turned around, watching a dark-skinned boy in a red shirt approaching on a bicycle. If it weren't for that ridiculously curly and dense hair, she wouldn't have recognized it.

She clenched her fists, watching out of the corner of her eye as Arnold gave him a gesture to keep him aloof.

She quickly _understood_ everything.

"Oh, so now you bite pillows? That explains!" Cool. Now she looked furious. "You know what? I'm not interested, I'm leaving!"

Abruptly, she broke the contact she had with him.

"Wait! You do not want...?"

"No thanks, I'll be fine! I better leave you alone, I won't want to ruin your festival of cliche love. You are easily replaceable. See you again, stupid football-head!

She didn't care to bleed the palm of her hand with the strength she held in both fists, turning on hers axis to get away quickly.

She had already been terribly humiliated and wouldn't stay there to see how they boasted on her face.

However, the further she walked away, the fury dissipated to give way to enormous sadness. She knew she was lying: _Arnold couldn't be replaced by anything or anyone; as she'd said, she was in love with him from very infants. Such an intense and lasting infatuation couldn't be eliminated with an eraser so easily._

And feeling an intense burning in her throat, she began to cough.

She wanted to think that it had dried up, she knew it was normal after having raised her voice for so long.

_She simply had to buy a large bottle of water and an arranged affair._

But she don't expect to receive a sharp pain that accompanied it, and her cough became more noticeable, again feeling the urge to cry.

_It could get to Arnold and he wouldn't hesitate to help her._

But that thought was interrupted by the fits of coughing, feeling a deep relief when she finally stopped doing it ignoring the sensation of something coming out of her mouth. Although she couldn't avoid the metallic taste that this caused her.

When she opened his eyes again between constant gasps, she felt time to stop and her. body facing serious. The world had frozen around her.

In front of her, a petal rested unconcerned before being carried by the wind.

It had been pink, she hadn't even had time to make sure of what kind of flower.

_But no. That couldn't be possible._

_It was supposed to be simply fictional, an element that several writers cruelly used in their stories._

_A simple unreal experience that punished you for the simple fact of loving and not being reciprocated._

_But from there to actually exist...?_

_It was possible...?_

_Had she really got the **Hanahaki?**_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unfinished Poems](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486720) by [elemental__ly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemental__ly/pseuds/elemental__ly)




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